Practice
Concentrate.
Focus.
As though his life depended on it; if Hector's convictions were anything more than paranoia maybe it would some day.
But thinking about that made him almost miserable, wondering if the world was that cold under the surface of normality.
Sitting on the smooth floor of his new room, staring at the object resting in front of him; not the object itself, only a box he decided was large enough to cast a proper shadow, but the subtle darkness around it; he wasn't certain where to go.
This he could handle, Lacroix was sure; could handle it better than metaphysical slime because that idea was so much less comfortable.
There was nothing that could harm him, or even be too disturbing, about the darkness; and he had lost most of his fear of it early on in his life.
The only darkness that troubled him was the type behind his eyelids, he couldn't trust it when that was the sort of shadowy haze bred those nightmares.
Best not to dwell on that thought though, no; Lacroix twisted his focus back to the task before him.
When sheer willpower did nothing he took a more direct approach, shoving his fingertips against the shadows and prodding them, dragging them along the smooth floor.
He gained a faint sense of pleased accomplishment when the shadows just barely darkened and followed his fingers; only a twitch of motion that lapped at the edge of his nails.
It wasn't enough.
A different approach; that's what he needed.
Climbing his feet, contemplative as he moved to the table in the room and pulled his chair around to it, sitting down and leaning forward to dig through a box of various odds and ends left there; retrieving a pen and dropping it on the table to let it roll back and forth.
Flicking the object back and forth, catching it while it rolled and repeating the process; while his thoughts were busy trying to recall just what it was Hector had told him about shadows and how to toy with them he finally lifted his palm to rest his chin against it, elbow propped against the smooth surface.
The pen kept rolling in the same path, Lacroix glanced down and tipped his head, gaze drawn to the thin shadow; running a finger from his other hand along the edge and dragging the darkness with that motion until it pooled in a single spot.
Amused, Lacroix lifted an eyebrow and ran his finger back along the pool of darkness, coaxing it to thicken and spread, urging the flat circle into a star shape by tracing the outline for the shadows to chase.
It reminded him of those toys that held the sand with bits of metal in it with the little magnetic sticks used to draw shapes; only far less mundane and rather distracting.
Finger-painting with the darkness; it was almost relaxing.
Focus.
As though his life depended on it; if Hector's convictions were anything more than paranoia maybe it would some day.
But thinking about that made him almost miserable, wondering if the world was that cold under the surface of normality.
Sitting on the smooth floor of his new room, staring at the object resting in front of him; not the object itself, only a box he decided was large enough to cast a proper shadow, but the subtle darkness around it; he wasn't certain where to go.
This he could handle, Lacroix was sure; could handle it better than metaphysical slime because that idea was so much less comfortable.
There was nothing that could harm him, or even be too disturbing, about the darkness; and he had lost most of his fear of it early on in his life.
The only darkness that troubled him was the type behind his eyelids, he couldn't trust it when that was the sort of shadowy haze bred those nightmares.
Best not to dwell on that thought though, no; Lacroix twisted his focus back to the task before him.
When sheer willpower did nothing he took a more direct approach, shoving his fingertips against the shadows and prodding them, dragging them along the smooth floor.
He gained a faint sense of pleased accomplishment when the shadows just barely darkened and followed his fingers; only a twitch of motion that lapped at the edge of his nails.
It wasn't enough.
A different approach; that's what he needed.
Climbing his feet, contemplative as he moved to the table in the room and pulled his chair around to it, sitting down and leaning forward to dig through a box of various odds and ends left there; retrieving a pen and dropping it on the table to let it roll back and forth.
Flicking the object back and forth, catching it while it rolled and repeating the process; while his thoughts were busy trying to recall just what it was Hector had told him about shadows and how to toy with them he finally lifted his palm to rest his chin against it, elbow propped against the smooth surface.
The pen kept rolling in the same path, Lacroix glanced down and tipped his head, gaze drawn to the thin shadow; running a finger from his other hand along the edge and dragging the darkness with that motion until it pooled in a single spot.
Amused, Lacroix lifted an eyebrow and ran his finger back along the pool of darkness, coaxing it to thicken and spread, urging the flat circle into a star shape by tracing the outline for the shadows to chase.
It reminded him of those toys that held the sand with bits of metal in it with the little magnetic sticks used to draw shapes; only far less mundane and rather distracting.
Finger-painting with the darkness; it was almost relaxing.